Thank you Judy. I’m having fun.
123/Photo Selection
Happy New Year 2024
The temperature is forty-five degrees this morning in Ormond Beach and I am sitting outside with blankets and a hot cup of coffee. My nose is cold and occasionally I slip my hands into my robe pockets to keep them warm.
I feel optimistic about the new year, and don’t know why. Certainly world affairs and political agendas paint a dismal picture at best. Perhaps it is the realization of how little power or influence I have. Frequently I have offers, from other seniors, to help me load my groceries into the car. I accept their help gracefully.
As I look back on 2023, the highlights are trumped by health events and staying alive. Please don’t be nervous. My husband and I are well, however, it is a time consuming effort.
Moving forward into the new year, call them resolutions if you like, I’ve decided to stop worrying about; recycling, global warming, the wars in Israel and Ukraine, and how to get people to delete stored emails, or if a semicolon or comma should be used after about in this sentence.
Good health and publishing my novel, Morningside Drive, will be my focus. I planned to publish in February, because Roxanne Hart marries on Valentine’s Day. However, staying healthy got in the way. You’ll be hearing more about Joy Webb, the main character, and her return to Daytona Beach after missing thirty years, to confront her father about the past.
Thank you for supporting my writing.
I wish each of you good health and happiness in the year ahead.
. . . Claudia just saying
Merry Christmas 2023
It is seven a.m. in Florida, and there is no snow on the ground, no chill in the air. Only a dank blanket of humidity threatening rain. There are a few presents under the tree.
I close my eyes and hear children’s feet coming down the stairs and laughter, see icicles dangling off the eves and give myself a hug.
It is a different time in my life. I’m lucky to have memories, years of sitting around a table of twenty-five and more. The smell of duck or crown roast permeating our senses.
There will be three of us today and we’ll celebrate differently. We’ll go see The Boys in the Boat and then have Chinese for dinner.
I’m looking forward to the day.
. . . just saying. . . Merry Christmas
(The post below is from a few years ago.)
Christmas Cards
Remember when we decorated doorways and arches with Christmas Cards? It was a simpler time. The tree went up on Christmas Eve and an evergreen scent, hard to described, filled our hearts and minds. Today I shop for a fragrant candle to duplicate the scent unsuccessfully. The reality of a fresh Frasier Fur tree is short lived, needles drop quickly and the tree is so perfectly trimmed it appears to be a fake.
Over the years I’ve saved cards that were too pretty or special to toss and tuck them inside the branches (fake or real) of our tree. They bring me a smile. Below are some of my favorite ornaments. I have many birds on my tree.
. . . just saying
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Suing Santa
Life becomes more challenging as we age. Do you agree?
Why do I say that?
Well, in spite of my desire to write and post more often, staying healthy interferes. I am either at a doctor’s office, the ER or on hold in an attempt to solve technical problems for mine or my husband’s diabetic pump. So, I was happy to get dressed up and go out with friends. First we had lunch at Rose Villa
Rose Villa is a comfortable casual restaurant in a unique historic setting in Ormond Beach, Florida.
We feature Southern inspired cuisine, including our signature southern fried chicken,
classic craft cocktails and an ample selection of wines.
Built in the late 1800’s, Rose Villa was established as a bed and breakfast in 1901.
A small exclusive adjunct to Henry Flagler’s Ormond Hotel, it accommodated important guests
who preferred more privacy than the famous hotel afforded. It thrived for many years,
later became a real estate office, and eventually began to suffer from its age.
The beautiful old building came back to life when it was purchased by Bill Jones in 2007.
With an amazing vision, he transformed the original Rose Villa into the Victorian jewel it is today.
or a leisurely dining experience, you will be charmed.
From the bold cranberry and apple green colors on the outside to the magnificent custom
wallpapered walls and ceilings throughout, you are transported to the era
of the 1920’s with every minute detail.
Today, Rose Villa offers a polished casual atmosphere with Southern hospitality.
After lunch, we gathered at Juliette’s home for fun and games. Dan The Man joined us, but was on his best behavior, available only for pictures.
Playing the game, Suing Santa was a blast! So I searched on line, but only found the Santa Left Right game, on Etsy. You pass a gift bags left then right. It cost $3.49 to down load. I paid!
I didn’t want to sue Santa anyway, it would have cost sooooooooooo much more.
What a different world we live in.
My grandkids are coming and I’ll put money in the gift bags.
I had fun with the girls.
. . .Just saying
Do You Wear An Apron?
Happy Thanksgiving to Family, Friends and Readers
When I put on an apron to start cooking today, memories of my grandmother’s flowered aprons came to mind, and the loud unruly Thanksgiving dinners of the past. At least twenty people were crammed around a dinning room table in her one bedroom apartment. Today there will be three of us, but. . . it is still Thanksgiving, a day of gratitude.
I didn’t cook turkey. It is too much work. I cook Lemon Chicken from the Sopranos Family Cookbook, stuffing and green beans. It was delicious and we didn’t miss the turkey.
I made an apple tart, thinking of my grandmother’s pies; apple, pumpkin, and mincemeat.They rested on an ironing board in her kitchen.
After dessert, the girls chose an apron to wear while cleaning the kitchen. Grandma visited with the other relatives until the dancing started; which was followed my turkey sandwiches, made of white bread, cranberries, and mayo.
Do you still wear an apron? I do.
Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours.
. . . just saying, Claudia
The Alphabet Series-O is for Ordinary
Aging & Attitude
New Thoughts on Words
“Honey, I’m home,” yells Mr. Wonderful,* as he parades himself through the front door carrying a boxed Hamilton Beach toaster oven I requested he buy. I meet him in the kitchen as he continues saying, “You’re gonna love it,” his chest buffed out, ready to strut his feathers like he is a peacock.
“Great,” I respond as excited as he is, “Was it still on sale?”
“Yes, $37.99.” He answers and reaches for a sharp knife to cut through the cellophane tape.
“Wait!” I demand. “Don’t open it! You didn’t get the red one. It says black, see.”
I point to the bold lettering on the box.
Hamilton Beach Toaster Oven
Black
“What’s the difference? They didn’t have a red one. Black, red, it makes toast, heats rolls, melts cheese.”
“Black is ordinary, dull, predictable. Black lacks distinction. Red adds, pizzazz, makes a statement.”
He says, “Who needs a statement? I want toast in the morning, ordinary, plain toast. I add cherry jelly if I need pizzazz. Dull and ordinary is just fine by me.”
“Fine? As in average, common and mundane. I want better than fine. Red adds color, interest against the black granite. I’ll take it back, where’s the receipt?”
“What difference does it make, nobody sees it. It’s a toaster.”
“I see it. Now I’m a nobody?”
“Claudia, that’s not what I meant, you’re being ridiculous, why can’t you ever be happy?”
“So I’m a ridiculous unhappy nobody.”
“I didn’t say that. Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“It doesn’t matter what you said, what you meant was, STOP being a pain in MY butt and settle for ordinary.”
“Geezzzzzzzzzz, What if it only came in black, you’d have to be happy with black.”
“Now I should fake it, pretend I like humdrum black. Did you look for chrome? Chrome, at least chrome would be different.
“You’re right. I’ll take it back. Why be ordinary? God forbid we’re ordinary. Whatever you want. If a red toaster oven makes you happy, I’m happy too. Yada, yada, yada”
*Mr. Wonderful is my husband of forty-two years. This was posted in 2013. He returned the black toaster oven and we still have the red one.
The picture on the left was taken this morning. Still looking good he prefers to be called, Bobbie C. And yes we are still married. . .fifty-two years.
….just saying
Inconvenient Weather
In Florida, weathermen or weather-people, to be politically correct; now refer to weather as inconvenient.
Well. . .your feet might get wet, your hair blown, and you’ll have to follow a car’s tail-lights to get home. But, you’ll be safe, in a down pour.
It is inconvenient; but catchy and cute. Isn’t it?
The expression hasn’t caught on in the north. Weather people announce the above freezing temperatures void of express, with little regard for the lack of sunshine.
Inconvenient weather is normal, and expected.
I don’t know what’s happening in other parts of the country.
So, on a normal fall day in the north, we drove to Indian Ladder Farms to buy apples. The variety of apples is outstanding and their sugar apple donuts memorable.
As we were leaving, I saw a restored Jaguar, and asked the owner if I could take a picture. He offered to take a picture of me in the vehicle.
We got to chatting. He and his wife are Florida Snow Birds and owners of a window washing service, Mark Washing Windows. They have a place in Port Orange, twenty-five miles from me.
They don’t think Florida’s weather is inconvenient and will be heading south after the holidays.
Is your weather inconvenient?
. . . just saying, Claudia
P.S. If you are comfortable, please follow me, and/or share my writing with a friend. Thank you.
That’s Not Me
We’re visiting family in Delmar, N.Y., and the leaves are falling fast.
We arrived Wednesday to a chilly temperature of 35 degrees. I enjoy the crisp air and sleeping under a ton of blankets, so the adjustment from Florida is welcome. There is only a smidge of color, and most of the leaves have fallen. The leaves are blown into the street, not raked, and not bagged. The town routinely vacuums them, following a schedule similar to their garbage pick-up.
You can view my story, Wheels of Circumstance at Miriam Drioi’s That’s Not Me. I’m a contributing writer to her blog series.
The story originated when I met Vera in college in 1966. She and her mother had to run into the woods to flee the Russians and escape to Austria on November 4th, 1956
I’d love you to share this story, with family and friends, if you’re comfortable .
. . .just saying
A Great Idea
Make a Photo-Book
Here’s a great idea Choose favorite pictures, saved on your phone over the past year, and make a photo-book. There are many companies, some more popular than others, but the one I used can upload them to your phone. I can’t tell you how because my granddaughter-in-law made the magic happen.
I have to confess it took me hours and hours to do the rest, and than hours to use the sale voucher I purchased, but it was worth it.
I received the book today.
I don’t take many pictures, so I had to beg, borrow, and steal from other places. But, next year I’ll think about making a book as I take pictures throughout 2024.
It’s hard to believe there are only 65 days left in the year.
…just saying
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Say Goodbye
Autumn Thoughts
I have trouble saying goodbye, not to people. . . I think I’m good at that. But to objects; like my orange library card with the metal stamp. Clothing, my black cocktail dress (it still fits), mush cards from my son, and Martha Stewart Magazines.
The above photo was snapped from a Halloween issue.
There was a time, when I traipsed through the woods to find and assembled something like that. Well it never came close, but had a lot of dried stuff.
In Florida, that is not happening.
The alternative is to thumb through the magazine, and I do so, happily.
Autumn is short lived in Florida. There is no raking of leaves, then jumping into the piles.
I still hear the children laughing.
Remember. . . this was called fun.
The Christmas hurry up will begin Thanksgiving day, or November 23rd, and like it or not. . . my world will turn red, and green.
I’ll have to say goodbye to the golden colors of fall.
I’ll tuck Martha’s magazines away, take out the past Christmas issues, and go into the woods to cut down our Christmas tree.
…just saying
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